


Where Blue Eyes Were Supposed To Be

by orphan_account



Category: Coraline (2009), The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bilbo is happy to have Thorin back even though he has button eyes but then a bunch of shit goes down, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-11-29 00:39:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo was amazed. Thorin stood before him, alive once more, as if the Battle of Five Armies had never happened. He smiled down at him. "Oh my little burglar," he whispered, running his rough fingers through Bilbo's head of curls. "I have missed you so much."<br/>That was when Bilbo noticed what was wrong.<br/>Where Thorin's blue eyes were supposed to be were two black buttons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I was thinking about The Hobbit and Coraline, and suddenly I thought of combining them, plus adding Bagginshield. So Thorin, Fili, and Kili die, but they come back, with just one small difference. For a while, Bilbo happily ignores it. How can he not? He has everything that he could ever want back.

It was a cold, wet, and rainy day when Bilbo arrived in Erebor. He was soaking wet and exhausted, his breathing shallow. All he wanted to do now was to find a nice bed, and there were many now that Smaug was gone, and just curl up inside one of them and never come out.  
His friends had asked him to come visit them, and maybe even to stay, and he had no idea how to say no. As much as it pained him to come here, to remember the death of the one he held most dear, he knew he had to do it. It was the only way that he could really recover, or at least that was what he thought.  
Erebor was beautiful, even Bilbo couldn’t deny that despite the pain that it had caused him. Gold was in everything, and the torchlight made it sparkle. He had to make sure that he didn’t start crying, but he feared any restraint wouldn’t really work out for him.  
Sometime during their journey, after Bilbo and Thorin had admitted their feelings, the two had lain side by side under the stars one night. Thorin kept Bilbo warm throughout the cold night, and whispered into his ears about Erebor. It was obvious that Thorin loved the place. Eventually, Thorin had whispered allowing him to stay with him. Bilbo’s face had turned red at the idea, but he’d told him that he’d stay. From the corner of his eye he had seen Thorin beam, and to this very day the memory of him with that smile on his face chilled Bilbo to the bone.  
They really could’ve had it all. By now he had stopped blaming himself for what happened, and he knew that Thorin had forgiven him, but he still didn’t know if he’d ever really get over it. It hurt to wake up every day after a dream where he was with Thorin, warm, safe, and surely alive Thorin. Once his eyes opened, Thorin was gone and Bilbo was all alone. As long as the dreams persisted, as long as the memory of Thorin Oakenshield remained in Bilbo’s mind, then he’d never really get over it.  
He walked to the royal chambers, his feet barely making a sound. Some dwarves stared at him, but he took no mind of them. Once he was in the royal wing, he saw the door to the room that had been specially made for Bilbo. It looked just like all the other royal dwarves, one for each of the thirteen, or ten now, who helped save Erebor. The room for the two brothers Fili and Kili were empty, and so was Thorin’s. They had still been made out of respect for the fallen ones who had given up their lives so that the dwarves could return to their kingdom. He quickly turned away from their room and opened his door.  
A cozy fire was in his room, and he sure it had been kept that way as the dwarves were sure he’d arrive soon after getting his message that he would come. There was a bookshelf stacked with books in the right corner of the room, a comfortable bed on one side, a desk on the opposite side of it, which had fresh parchment and a quill pen with a small container of ink ink on its wooden surface. It was like a smaller version of Bag End, though it was still quite big, in his room.  
He dropped his things by the desk, then left, hoping to find some food. He’d only stayed in Dale long enough to have a good conversation with Bard, and promptly left after that. He wished he hadn’t been such a fool as to not forget to grab a bite to eat. Outside his room, in the vast hallway, another door opened, revealing Dwalin. He turned and saw Bilbo, a smile gracing his old face.  
“Bilbo!” he cried, then ran up to him and gave him a hug. “We’ve been waiting for you, old friend!”  
Bilbo smiled. “I have to.”  
Suddenly, Balin screamed, and he was sure that the entire mountain and all of Dale could hear. “Our burglar has come back to us!”  
The royal doors opened and the nine other dwarves came rushing out. Everyone sounded so happy, and they all joined him and each passed him from arms to arms.  
“We missed you,” Oin said, squeezing the hobbit tightly. “We never thought we’d hear the pitter patter of your hairy feet ever again!”  
“Aye,” said Bofur, reaching out and taking Bilbo from him. He pulled off his hat and placed it on Bilbo’s head. “I missed ye so much, Bilbo. I thought I’d never get to see your face again except in my dreams.”  
“I wasn’t gone that long!” Bilbo said. “It was only six months.”  
“But so much has changed in six months,” said Nori. “Why, we managed to get so many dwarves to help rebuild Erebor that you’d think the dragon Smaug never even came!”  
Bilbo pretended to laugh, but deep down he wished that Smaug never had come. Though it would’ve likely prevented Bilbo from ever meeting Thorin, he’d likely still be alive today.  
“I just wanted to go to the Royal kitchens to get some food,” Bilbo said. “Why does everyone have to come up and hug me?”  
“We can’t help but give you a squeeze,” Gloin said. “We’ve missed you dearly.”  
“But if he wants food,” Bombur said, “then we will bring him food!”  
All the dwarves cheered, then let go of Bilbo and began walking away. Bilbo was shocked and just lay there staring at them. None of them turned back to face him or acted like they were looking for him. He quickly snuck into Thorin’s room.  
He really was happy to see his friends, he was, but it hurt him. Every time he saw their faces it filled him with grief, a grief that he struggled to hide. He knew he should have been too busy being happy to see them to be sad, but he still couldn’t get over Thorin.  
He had come into the room just to see what it looked like, to see who Thorin had been like just a little more. There was so much more that he was supposed to have learned about him but couldn’t, as Thorin was long gone to be with Mahal.  
The room was very basic, a fire burning in one corner, a large dresser in the other, and a small desk in another corner. On it were drawings, mostly of their adventure, though the art was poor. Still, knowing Thorin had made them brought tears to Bilbo’s eyes, and this time they leaked. Oh why did it have to happen to him? Thorin was too young to get his life ripped away from him.  
And on the desk was a single key, rather old, made of a rather average metal. It seemed wrong, completely different from the golden furnishings in the room. Even the tips of his bedframe had a slight bit of gold in them. Bilbo picked it up and held the cool object in his hand, then tossed it from one hand to the other. For some reason it captivated him, and his eyes couldn’t leave it.  
That was when he noticed the small door. It was built into the wall and looked rather old, small enough that he was sure only a hobbit or a smaller creature could crawl through it. Why was it in Thorin’s room? Out of curiosity he walked up and inserted the key, then opened the door.  
“Stone,” Bilbo muttered. “Why would you build a door and then just leave the rest as stone?” He sighed, scared of the answer, because he was sure there was a sad meaning to it.  
He sighed, then walked back into his room, the key still in his hand. It would be another memento to remember Thorin, because as much as it pained him to remember Thorin, he knew that it wasn’t worth forgetting him. He would much rather Thorin be alive now, but since he couldn’t have that he’d take the short time they’d been together and all the memories it held.  
A few minutes later the dwarves came in his room and found him asleep. They were carrying trays of food, but could see the tearstains by his eyes. Just as quickly as they came, they left.  
“I feel terrible for him,” Gloin said.  
Balin nodded. “Was it wrong for us to ask him to come?”  
What they did finally hit the dwarves, and their merrymaking stopped. All of them felt numb, as numb as Bilbo had felt.

 

Bilbo woke up, staring up at his ceiling. His stomach rumbled, but he didn’t care. He got up, looking at the pitiful remains of his fire, just a few small orange flames that would soon be lost with nothing but smoke left. He noticed the key on his desk, and for some reason he felt inclined to grab it. When he did, he didn’t feel like going back to bed. Instead, he went out into the hallway, being as quiet as he possibly could. Waking up his friends from the heavy sleep they were likely in would be wrong.  
He walked into Thorin’s room, his hands shaking slightly. His bed looked so warm, so close, and he had to force himself from running up and landing on it. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed and released a sigh.  
You’re back, Bilbo thought.  
He placed the key back on Thorin’s desk, then went to bed.  
A few hours later, after a thankfully dreamless sleep, he woke up. He blinked his eyes, then rubbed the sleep out of them. He got up and grabbed the key and played with it in his hands some more. Why was it capturing his attention so much?  
He went up to the door again and opened it, just to see if maybe there was something there behind it to remind him of Thorin. At that moment a sudden lust filled him to see Thorin again, for Thorin to remove the aching loneliness from him.  
Behind the door was a tunnel.  
“Wh-what?” Bilbo asked. He looked inside, completely amazed. There really was a tunnel behind it!  
He crawled in without thinking. The size was perfect for him, as if it had been designed for a hobbit.  
Maybe it was.  
But he didn’t have time for such sad thoughts, and continued crawling through. The tunnel was dark but rather straightforward, and soon he reached another door, though he couldn’t see it. He pushed it, and it gave way. A light came in, and Bilbo could see where he was.  
He crawled out, confused. “How am I still in Thorin’s chambers?” he asked. “I couldn’t have just walked through a tunnel and ended up back where I came from! That’s impossible.” Angrily, he locked the door and threw the key in his trouser pockets.  
That was when the door opened, and Bilbo saw a face that he thought he wouldn’t see for many years, not until the day his life finally ended.  
“Thorin!” Bilbo yelled, then ran up and wrapped up his arms around him. “Oh, Thorin you’re still alive!”  
The dwarf laughed, then pulled up Bilbo closer to him. He kissed his forehead. “How I’ve missed you, little burglar.”  
Bilbo looked up to stare up into his beautiful face. It was just as he remembered from the last time he saw him except not covered in bruises and blood.  
But he also had two black buttons for eyes. “B-Buttons,” he said. “What?” He had to be hallucinating, or this was just a strange dream induced by stress. Yes, he still had to be asleep, this was the only possible explanation.  
The dwarf laughed and let go of him. “Do you like them?”  
“What do you mean?”  
The lust that Bilbo had felt before left him. “But how do you even see?” Everything confused him, how could someone even have buttons for eyes?  
“Everyone has them here,” he said, “well except for you.”  
Bilbo felt nervous. This was so strange.  
“I’m the Other Thorin,” he said.  
“Wh-what do you mean?” stammered Bilbo. “How could there be any other Thorin?”  
“Everyone has another version of them,” Thorin said.  
“Even me?” asks Bilbo. There were other questions he wanted to ask, but that was the only thing he knew that didn’t sound like it would offend Thorin, or the Other Thorin as he called himself.  
Thorin reached down and gently kissed the top of Bilbo’s head, then leaned down and placed his lips gently next to his ears. “No, not you. You’re the special exception, Bilbo. You don’t have an Other, at least we haven’t seen one for you.” He wrapped his arms around you. “And I’ve missed you so much.”  
Bilbo had faced off against dragons, and he was sure that someone with button eyes could surely exist. He felt just like Thorin, sounded just like Thorin, treated him just like Thorin had, and the button eyes were the only difference between him and the Thorin living now with Mahal.  
Despite the one rather strange difference, he had everything that he could possibly want back.  
A smile filled Bilbo’s face, and he pulled in Thorin for a kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically Bilbo spends some more time in the Other world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad everyone likes this. Please enjoy this chapter and comment with your opinion.

Thorin lead Bilbo outside of his room, his hand on his back. Bilbo was amazed-Thorin, his Thorin, was back! He could barely keep his glee inside of him. Once he got past the rather strange button eyes part, he got to see Thorin, his Thorin.  
A door suddenly opened, and out came Fili and Kili. Bilbo smiled, relieved to see the two boys’ faces again. They looked so happy, healthy, and alive. It was as if the two buttons kept them from being the corpses that Bilbo had seen being lain into the ground, their spirits fleeing. Instead of losing their life when so much life was still in them, they were alive and breathing.  
“Bilbo!” Kili said. “You’re here?”  
“Yes,” he said, “I am.”  
“We missed you so much!” said Fili.  
“Yes, we thought that you’d never come!” They both ran up and wrapped their arms around him, pulling their uncle in along with them.  
“It’s so great to have you be a part of the family again,” Kili said.  
“The family?” asked Bilbo.  
Thorin laughed, messing up Bilbo’s curls with his hand. “Well what do you think that the two of us shared? The boys seemed happy to make you their second uncle.”  
Bilbo could imagine them, without button eyes, both excitedly discussing his and Thorin’s relationship. If things had worked out then they would’ve probably helped stage an enormous wedding and invite every dwarf they could.  
“I’m glad,” Bilbo said.  
He really was.

The dwarves all smiled at him, perfectly healthy, their button eyes gleaming in the light. They were even more excited than the dwarves from before had been, and all excitedly asked why he took so long to come.  
“I’ve been busy,” he said.  
Thorin placed his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. “Don’t give him such a hard time now.”  
The dwarves laughed.  
“Fine,” said Dwalin.  
“We’ve just missed him, that’s all,” said Nori.  
“But you’re back,” Kili said.  
“I didn’t know that I was ever gone,” Bilbo said.  
“I guess you can say you weren’t,” Bofur said, “but we’ve never seen you around here before.”  
Since they were in the royal dining hall, food quickly came out, carried by servants who worked quickly, then left just as soon as they came in. The food left in front of Bilbo looked incredibly appetizing, a piece of beef the size of his foot, and a bowl of rolls and a salad.  
“Well,” Thorin whispered, “dig in.”  
Bilbo took his fork and began doing so. The food tasted amazing, better than anything he’d ever eaten, and he could say that he’d a lot of food. Hobbits do eat on average seven meals a day. Eating this, he noticed small problems with the food he normally ate: parts of it being undercooked or just a bit colder than the rest of the meal, or salads having an uneven distribution of lettuce on one side and black olives on the other. But this food, however, was nothing short of completely perfect, and Bilbo couldn’t find a single flaw. Those servants and cooks knew exactly what they were doing when making this and bringing it out to them, and they had either been preparing it beforehand or had done it in a short time. Either way, it seemed absolutely perfect, and Bilbo would have to work hard to find a flaw.  
“This is amazing,” commented Bilbo. “I’ve never tasted anything better in my life.”  
Thorin smiled. “Then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind seconds?”  
“Of course not.”  
The servants came out and began giving Bilbo more. His mouth watered at the sight, and as soon as they stopped leaning over him and left for the kitchen, he began eating once more. He called for thirds, then fourths. He hadn’t realized how much his second journey to Erebor made him hungry until he finally finished with a contented sigh, finally full for the first time in a long time.  
Thorin eyed him. “I’m glad that you liked it.”  
When they finished, Thorin took him by his hand and said that he wanted to show him around Erebor. The other dwarves dispersed to go wherever they needed to go, though Fili and Kili stayed behind and told Bilbo a quick joke, and he couldn’t help but laugh. They left immediately after, then turned to smile at Bilbo before they left.  
“I have a question,” Bilbo said once they were alone at the edge of the royal dining hall, the only others in there being the servants flitting by to pick up food.  
Thorin raised a dark eyebrow. “What?”  
“What happened to Smaug?” asked Bilbo. For some reason he’d suddenly thought of the dragon, remembering the terror it had caused.  
Thorin smiled. “Let’s just say we got rid of him the way all good dwarves do.”  
“But what about Bard?”  
“I don’t know what it’s like where you’re from,” Thorin said, “but there is no Bard here, or not one that we know of.”  
He for a moment felt sad that his friend hadn’t done anything spectacular like killing Smaug in this world, but maybe that was the price of Thorin and his nephews still being alive. It was certainly worth it.  
“So,” Thorin said, “are you ready to see Erebor?”  
He had never had much time to explore it, as he’d left Erebor as soon as he could once he found out that Thorin was dead. When he’d gotten back he’d been too exhausted to actually explore. The only reason he knew where the royal chambers was because shortly after the dwarves got it back, Thorin had shown it to him. He’d even invited for Bilbo to have slept with him there that night.  
He wanted to cry, but as he was about to, he turned and saw Thorin and was sure that things would be alright.  
The main halls of Erebor were filled with glimmering gold, along with jewels that aligned the walls, designed to look like murals. Dwarves could actually be quite the artists, though most wouldn’t believe it until they saw it. The fire made the glass glimmer. Dwarves, all button-eyed, stopped and stared at them, bowing at their king and asking politely who the creature was.  
“This is the hobbit, Bilbo Baggins,” said Thorin, “and he is very dear to me.”  
The dwarves all smiled, but didn’t bother them.   
Bilbo looked around at royal paintings of the past in the line of Durin, all of which shared at least one similar feature with Thorin, from matching colored eyes and hair to having the same style nose or ears, or having the same cheekbones.  
“How are these made?” Bilbo asked.  
“With a lot of work,” joked Thorin.  
“They’re beautiful,” Bilbo said, and he could only imagine what they felt like. “I never noticed them when I first came, perhaps because piles of gold covered them.”  
“They are beautiful,” said Thorin, “but not as much as you.”  
As cliché as what he’d just said to him was, Bilbo felt his face turn red. “Thank you,” he said.  
Yes, his voice was exactly like Thorin’s. Bilbo really was beginning to look past the button eyes issue.  
“Thank you,” Bilbo said again, “for the food, I mean.”  
Thorin laughed. “Oh, Halfling, it was nothing.”  
Next, Thorin led Bilbo down the stairs towards the entrances of the mines, each marked by the jewels found inside each. A beautiful ruby sign was hung in front of one the mines, red as blood and sparkling. Another sign was marking the entrance to a sapphire mine, blue as Thorin’s eyes.  
“We’re going in there?” Bilbo asked, watching dwarves move in and out of it, holding some of the gems in their hands.  
“No!” Thorin grinned. “Well, not unless you’re interested. I didn’t think that you were the kind to get into a dark mine and hit at rocks.”  
“I’m not,” said Bilbo.  
“Then let’s continue.”  
Next they went to the very bottom of Erebor right before they reached the basement, and down there was a collection of jewels all neatly piled together. Thorin walked up to one, then found a golden necklace, then handed it to Bilbo.  
“Thank you,” he said, knowing nothing else to say.  
Thorin kissed the top of Bilbo’s head. “I have to go now.”  
“What do you mean?” Bilbo was horrified.  
“I’m not leaving forever!” Thorin gave the hobbit a quick hug. “I just have some business to do, and Bofur has been asking for you to come visit him. He tells me that he wants to show you something.”  
Bilbo relaxed. Why would Thorin leave forever again? He had certainly went a bit overboard. “Where will I find him?”  
“You remember where the market stalls are?” Thorin asked.  
“I saw them when we passed them,” Bilbo said.  
“Close to them is a door with a wooden sign, and behind there is his toyshop. You should find him there, and if he’s not there then he’s likely with his brother Bombur in the kitchens, or with Bifur near the smaller dwarves testing them on their Khuzdul.”  
Bilbo nodded. “I’ll be sure to find them.”  
“Good,” he said, “and don’t get lost.”  
“I’m sure that I won’t.”  
He walked upstairs, the walk long, but he could handle it. He stopped to take a break every few minutes, then continued walking. Once he reached the market stalls, he saw the door that Thorin had mentioned, then opened the door and went inside. It was empty except for a dwarf in the corner wearing a familiar hat, carving away at a piece of wood, a small container of red paint next to him.  
“Bofur,” Bilbo said.  
The dwarf turned to him, looking incredibly happy to see him. “Bilbo,” he said, “I was hoping that you’d come. I’m glad that Thorin told you.’  
“I was told that you wanted to show me something,” said Bilbo.  
“And that I do,” he said. He pulled some small toys out from a bag by his desk, then placed them on the desk. They were of warcs, orgs, elves, trolls, goblins, and Smaug, He touched a side of each of them and they all began moving.  
“That’s incredible!” Bilbo said. “How do you do it without them needing to be wound up?”  
“I can’t just reveal my secrets,” said Bofur. “You’ll steal it and tell it to everyone.”  
Bilbo laughed. “Fine, I’ll let you keep your secret. This was definitely worth seeing.  
He pulled out some more, all of them dwarves along with a familiar wizard, and one that looked like Bilbo. He handed that one to him.  
“I’ll be selling them soon and I’m sure it’ll be demanded by the dwarf children that I make more, so have the one of yourself before it sells out.”  
Bilbo looked down at it. It looked exactly like him, even with the same travel clothes, and he even had Sting, which would change colors every few seconds from its regular grey to blue. The only thing different about it was that it had painted eyes shaped like buttons, but he didn’t mind.  
“Thank you,” Bilbo said again. “I do hope that it sells well.”  
“I’m sure it will,” said Bofur, then pointed at the doors. Bilbo turned and saw a small group of dwarf children staring in with eyes as wide as saucers. “I’ve already got a few customers.”  
Bilbo opened the door for them, and the children quickly ran in, ignoring all the other toys except for the ones that moved. Bofur gave Bilbo a quick nod and tipped his hat, then went and began showing off the toys to the children.  
Bilbo didn’t know what to do next, so he began to walk around again. He ended up bumping into Fili and Kili, who excitedly grabbed his arms and began dragging him away.  
“Where are we going?” he asked.  
“You’ll see,” said Kili.  
They took Bilbo to a room that looked like a place where dwarves trained, and many were there already either firing their bows, flinging their swords at dummies, or sword fighting with one another.  
“We’ve improved our fighting skills,” said Kili, taking out his bow. “Please watch us!”  
“Yes, Uncle Bilbo!” added his brother.  
Bilbo turned red at the Uncle Bilbo part, but nodded. How could he say no to them?  
They certainly had. Kili hit every target without a sweat, and Fili easily sliced off the dummies’ heads. He threw Bilbo a sword once he was done and challenged Bilbo to a swordfight.  
“What?” Bilbo asked.  
“Is Uncle scared I’ll beat him?” Fili asked.  
Kili laughed. “I think he is, brother.”  
“No!” Bilbo said, then gripped the sword he was given. “I am certainly not, and I will prove it to you.”  
“Then do it,” said Fili, who held up his sword. “I’m prepared to fight.”  
It actually lasted for quite a bit of time, and Bilbo did whatever he could to try to beat Fili. It was quite a lot of work, he hadn’t been lying when he’d said that he’d improved, but he’d outsmarted him once his guard got a bit high. When he won, he cheered in victory.  
“What happened?” asked Thorin.  
Kili pointed at Bilbo. “Uncle, he just beat Kili at sword fighting.”  
Thorin smiled. “I would expect nothing less of him. I’m proud of you and only wished that I hadn’t been too busy to see it.”  
Bilbo blushed. “Oh no, it was nothing.”  
Kili patted his back. “Oh don’t be so modest!”  
“Okay, I was pretty good.” Bilbo admitted.  
“I’m sure that you’re hungry now,” Thorin said. “Care for dinner?”  
“Did we really fight that long?” asked Bilbo. The fight had been a blur, seconds seeping into one another.  
“Fili is good,” said Kili.  
Bilbo’s stomach grumbled.  
“I think that’s our answer!” Thorin said.  
This time it was only Thorin and his nephews with Bilbo that night, Thorin saying that the others were busy and the four were eating early.  
Bilbo immediately dug in, eating like the dwarves first had when they came and raided his pantry at Bag End. The dwarves really did have a way to rub off on him. He didn’t even have to ask for seconds, the servants just came and quickly refilled his plates. The food was even better than before.  
“Compliment Bombur the next time you see him,” said Thorin. “He made all of this.” Bilbo made a mental note to do this.”  
The others ate just as heartily, and they made merry conversation about anything. Bilbo got an update on how Thorin and his nephews, or his Other nephews, were doing. He talked about himself as well.  
He didn’t know when he started getting tired, but it was probably around the fourth refill of food, and after the fifth he told Thorin that he was tired. He yawned.  
“I guess I wore you out,” he said. “Come on, you can come with me.”  
Thorin brought him back to his room, then began undressing. Bilbo turned red, then began to do the same. They both lay under the covers, Bilbo falling asleep almost immediately. Despite being naked, nothing of the sort happened, they just fell asleep, Thorin next to Bilbo, keeping him warm.  
When Bilbo woke up his clothes were on him, he was in his room, not Thorin’s, and the fire was out. He sighed.  
“It was just a dream,” he said. “Nothing but a dream.” Tears began to form in his eyes. It had certainly felt real. He felt around in his pocket and felt his ring, then felt something else. He pulled out his key. “It’s still there,” he whispered, a surge of hope running through his heart. “The key is still there!”

 

He polished his button eyes, making them gleam in the light. He liked this hobbit, this Bilbo Baggins. He seemed rather easy to win over, and he’d have him in no time at all.  
Selecting from his collection, he found two black buttons exactly like his own. He placed them in a box, knowing soon Bilbo would be eager to open them. He also grabbed some thread and a needle, and placed it in as well. Yes, Bilbo surely wouldn’t even imagine saying no to this.  
A smile danced across his lips. His job had never felt so easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously am on full-time writing mode while I write this. I should post another chapter really soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So we see more of the regular world and the Other world and also Smaug. Yeah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you that I'd update soon.

Bilbo was back in the regular world, the world where everyone had regular eyes, where Thorin was dead. Grief fell over him, and he began to cry. He really was dead here and there was nothing that he could do about it.  
He walked to his door and pulled it open, bracing himself for having to face the dwarves that day. Why was he back here? It couldn’t have been a dream, it was just too good to be a simply dream. What made him come back here without realizing it?  
Quickly, he snuck into Thorin’s room and inserted the key into the door. Surely he could skip the day and just get back to the world where Thorin was still alive. It sounded amazing.  
Stone, cold, plain stone was in front of him.  
“What?” he asked. He closed the door, then just stared down at the key by it. “It can’t just be gone.” But it was.  
He deflated, and slumped against the edge of Thorin’s bed. How could it just be gone? Bilbo knew that he’d gone in there and what he’d seen was real. Why was the tunnel there gone already?  
The door opened a crack, and he saw some eyes peak in. Great, someone did know that he was in there. Just as quickly, the door closed and he heard whispers of “He’s worse off than we thought.” and “We should never had insisted on him coming. It’s really starting to get to him.”  
Bilbo sighed, wishing to be left alone. He was relieved when he heard their heavy footsteps as they walked away. Grabbing the key from the cold floor, he opened the door again, but it was still blank, cold stone. He ran his fingers over it, the stone chilling him. It was perfectly smooth, and a deep grey color that fit it very well.  
“But I have to go back,” he said. “I have to.”  
All he wanted was to have Thorin back, to wrap his arms around him and not feel so alone anymore. He loved the dwarves here, he really did, but they were never as close to him as he was with Thorin. They also certainly couldn’t provide to him what Thorin had, it’d just seem too strange. Bofur had offered it once near the beginning of their journey but he’d declined. Bofur was just too much of a friend to him for him to ever cross that line.  
He sat down and stared at Thorin’s wall for a few minutes before finally forcing himself up. He still had a whole day ahead of him, so he might as well find a faster way to pass the time. As he was about to leave, Bilbo eyed the door. He noticed that the key was on the door, so he quickly reached down and grabbed it, then put it in his pocket. With another last glance at the door, the real last one this time, he left.  
Outside, the halls were empty, everyone likely to have gone off on their day. Perhaps they were eating breakfast, but right now Bilbo wasn’t hungry, still full from the meal.  
If I’m full, he thought, then surely I must have been there to eat. It must have not been a dream; it just couldn’t have been.  
He walked down the stairs of Erebor, seeing the market stalls. The door was there, and he knocked, then heard Bofur’s voice say to come in. He walked inside, a bell jingling as he did so.  
“Bofur,” he said, seeing the dwarf hunched in the corner, working on a piece of wood like his Other had been doing.  
The dwarf turned to him, then dropped his work and ran up and gave him a hug. “Bilbo!” he said. “You came to see me.”  
Bilbo tensed. He probably still felt in that way. . . He wanted to return his feelings, he really did, but it would likely only hurt him more if he pretended that he cared about him like that.  
“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked. “I did journey all the way to Erebor, and I didn’t do it to ignore all of you.” Though he figured he’d be doing a lot of that if things got too hard, if the memories of Thorin began to pound down on him.  
He smiled. “I’m just glad you left right after a group of children ran in. They were practically beating down the door.”  
Bilbo smiled. “So business is going well?”  
“Thankfully, yes,” he said. “It’s not like I need the money, though. I do have a fourteenth of the gold. I mostly give my pay to some of the poorer dwarves and toys to their children.”  
“That’s so kind of you,” Bilbo said, glad to see the greed that he’d seen earlier in him gone by now.  
“It’s nothing,” Bofur said. “I have money to burn but there’s no point in burning it.”  
They talked for a while, and it was rather pleasant, but Bilbo noticed that he lacked what the Other Bofur had. His toys moved, yes, but they didn’t do it by themselves with no explanation how. He was still his friend, but he seemed to lack what the Other Bofur had.  
And then he accidentally mentioned Thorin.  
Bilbo tensed up, memories sliding through his brain. He tried desperately to think of the Other Thorin, the still living Thorin, but he couldn’t.  
“I’m so sorry!” Bofur said. Just then a group of children walked in, happily talking about what they wanted to buy, and the two became too busy to continue with their failed attempt at conversation.  
Leaving the toy store, Bilbo suddenly remembered the wooden toy version of himself that the Other Bofur had given him. He ran back to his room, past a bunch of curious dwarves, and into his room. Inside, he grabbed his jacket and found the figure in his pocket. He pressed it lightly where the Other Bofur had, and it began to move in the palm of his hand. He felt tears form at his eyes, happy tears.  
“It’s real,” he whispered. “It’s really, really real.”  
He put the toy back in his jacket pocket, then left his room. Surely if he had the toy then perhaps the stone would be gone and he could get back to the Other world now. . . He took the key from his pocket and opened his door, nearly hitting Bofur in the face.  
“I’m so sorry!” he said. “Goodness, I’m sorry about nearly hitting your poor face, my friend.”  
Bofur laughed, then adjusted his hat. “No, no, I’m fine. I just wanted to ask where you were yesterday.”  
That’s when it finally hit him: He’d been gone a whole day when he’d went to the Other world. He couldn’t just say that he went to a world where people had buttons for eyes and Thorin was still alive; Bofur would just think he’d have gone crazy with grief.  
“I, I,” he began. What was he supposed to say?  
“Is it hard on you?” Bofur asked. “Being here?”  
He nodded weakly, feeling the tears form. Perhaps there was only a certain time that the tunnel was open, and if he didn’t hurry then maybe he’d miss his chance and have to wait a whole more day-  
“I really have to go,” he said, then scampered past Bofur and ran away, slipping the ring on his finger. He was glad that at least he still had that and no one else knew about it.  
Once Bofur was done questioning how he suddenly disappeared, muttering about how Bilbo must be having an even harder time than he originally thought, then began to walk away, probably back to his toy shop or to see Bombur.  
Bilbo sighed, then went back to Thorin’s room. Sure enough, the tunnel was there. His heart soared, and he walked through, his spirits raising the farther he got. He was almost there, and soon he’d be there with Thorin! Just seeing his face would be amazing, allowing him to be with him just a little more, almost as if he’d never died.  
When he opened the door, the room was empty, but he knew he had to be around. He closed the door behind him and walked to the door, opening it.  
“The halls are empty,” he muttered, but he heard noise close, towards the staircase, so he continued walking. He was sure that he’d see someone soon.  
As he walked down the stairs, he noticed Dwalin. He gently tapped his shoulder, startling the dwarf, which looked quite silly considering what a great fighter the dwarf was, startled by a mere hobbit.  
“Oh, Bilbo!” he said, putting down his weapon. “You certainly startled me.”  
Bilbo laughed. “Oh, it’s nothing.”  
“So I’m guessing that you’re looking for Thorin?” asked the old dwarf.  
Bilbo nodded. “You know me well.”  
Dwalin laughed. “He’s actually busy.”  
Again? thought Bilbo. Why is he always so busy?  
“Bombur was actually hoping to see you,” Dwalin said. “He told me if I saw you to ask for you to come down to the kitchens.”  
Bilbo nodded. “I’d be happy to see him.” He began walking downstairs, then waved goodbye to the dwarf. “I apologize for scaring you.”  
Dwalin smiled. “Ye have nothing to be sorry for, lad.”  
As Bilbo was walking downstairs, he noticed something. He stopped grabing something red that was running around near his feet.  
“Agh!” yelled an unfamiliar voice.  
Bilbo stared down to see that he was holding a small dragon.  
“What?” he asked.  
The dragon huffed. “It’s so nice to see you, Bilbo Baggins.”  
“Smaug?” he asked, suddenly remembering the voice. “You’re still alive? And you’re so tiny.”  
“Don’t remind me,” he muttered, then acted as though he was going to breathe fire, but all that came out were a few puffs of smoke.  
“Or are you the Other Smaug?” he asked.  
Smaug laughed, then squirmed his way out of Bilbo’s hands and climbed up onto his head, then stared down into his eyes. “Do you see any of those old, ugly buttons in my eyes?”  
“Don’t insult Thorin’s eyes!” Bilbo said.  
Smaug laughed. “That’s not Thorin.”  
“How could he not be?” Bilbo asked.  
“Never mind,” Smaug said. “There’s no way to reason with you, not while you’re like this. I guess I might as well explain how I’m alive and so tiny.”  
“Yes, I do think an explanation for that is needed.”  
“Well,” Smaug said, “we dragons have a thing for coming back. I reincarnated and became a baby dragon once more. I remembered my old life and immediately left my mother to seek vengeance on you and all of your dwarf friends, also that Bard guy, I hate him too, but once I came here I kind of realized that things wouldn’t work out for me for at least three or four centuries. So I kind of found ways into this Other place or whatever they like to call it.”  
“So you’re alive again?”  
“What do you think reincarnation means? Of course I’m alive again!” He hopped down off of Bilbo’s shoulders and stretched out his small red wings, barely big enough to carry him a few feet above the ground. Yes, he wouldn’t be taking back Erebor for quite some time.  
“Why are you still here?” Bilbo asked. “Aren’t you scared that someone will see you?”  
“Well, it’s a bit too late for that.” He turned away from him and looked up the stairs, then turned to Bilbo. “I have to leave, so see you later, Baggins scum! I’m sure our paths will be forced to cross again sometime soon, no matter how much I hate that.” He jumped off the edge of the staircase and went down, likely to either fly off or land into a pile of treasures.  
“Bilbo!” said Dwalin. “Is something wrong?”  
“No!” Bilbo said quickly, then began walking again. What if he had seen Smaug? As much trouble as he caused, he didn’t want him to be killed, at least not now when he was harmless. “I was just checking out Erebor from this perspective. It’s quite a beautiful place!” He quickly began running down the stairs. Sweat ran down his face, but he kept going faster and faster without a break. 

 

“What is it?” he asked, his voice gruff. “I’m rather busy.”  
“I understand,” said Dwalin, “but Master, this issue is important.”  
He turned to face Dwalin, raising a dark eyebrow. “What is the issue that must take up my time now?”  
“Bilbo,” he said, feeling sweat forming, “Bilbo has discovered Smaug.”  
“I told you all to find the damn thing and kill it!”  
“We couldn’t find him. Dragons are rather sneaky when they are still small.”  
He scowled. “You all are supposed to be mighty dwarves but you are completely incompetent.”  
“Master,” he said, “we are so sorry.”  
“Well,” he replied, “what has he poisoned Bilbo’s mind with?”  
“I’m not sure.”  
“You didn’t even hear what he said to Bilbo?”  
“I saw Smaug when it was too late and he ran away. I tried to get answers out of Bilbo, but he ran away just as quickly.”  
“Find him,” he said, “and kill him. I can’t have him infecting Bilbo’s mind.”  
Dwalin nodded. “Of course, sir, I understand perfectly.”  
“And make sure that he is treated to well, in hopes that he’ll forget about the incident.”  
Dwalin nodded again. “Yes, of course, Master.”  
His master simply went back to whatever it was he was so desperately working on, a work that consumed most of his time.  
“I will be out soon,” he said, “but until then make sure he’s too occupied to have any chance of getting near the accursed dragon.”  
Dwalin gulped. “Yes, yes, of course master.” He scampered away, his heart beating a mile a minute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm not going to follow Coraline a hundred percent, and I'm going to change things a bit. Still, it'll follow the same basic plot line and I'll try to stay as close to it as I can. But yeah, changes, be warned.
> 
> Also, Smaug is supposed to be the cat. I didn't know who else to do it of.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin gives Bilbo a gift.

“Bombur,” Bilbo said. “I was told that you wanted to see me.”  
Bombur smiled. “I need you to do a few favors for me.”  
Bilbo smiled. “I’d be happy to.”  
Bombur motioned to a nearby dwarf woman who was busy stirring a dough filled bowl, flour spilled out on her arms and in her blond beard. “It’s ready,” she said, then walked over to an oven, then pulled out a tray of cookies. The smell instantly filled the kitchen, and Bilbo took a few longer sniffs than necessary. Now this was worth coming to see.  
Bombur handed Bilbo one, and then he and the dwarf woman both ate one. They all took a bite at the same time. Like all food there, it seemed a thousand times better than the ones at his world. He quickly grabbed another.  
“They’re amazing,” Bilbo said. “I’ll be honest and call them perfect.”  
A twinkle was in Bombur’s eyes. “I knew you’d love them.” He handed Bilbo a few more. “Thorin’s been meaning to see you,” he said. “Here are some for the trip there.”  
Bilbo quickly thanked him, then ran out at the mention of getting to see Thorin. He wanted to tell him everything.  
But just as he was about to run to Thorin’s room, Smaug appeared, the little dragon jumping on top of Bilbo’s head. “Oh!” Bilbo yelled. “What do you want?”  
Smaug reached out and began eating Bilbo’s cookies.  
“You blasted little dragon!” he yelled, throwing him off of his arm.  
Smaug snorted, a bit of black smoke coming out of his nose. “I was hungry,” he said. “I actually have a hard time getting food now that I’m stuck like this. Bilbo, I’m sure that someone who eats seven meals a day can live without a little bit of food.”  
The words stung, but he didn’t care. What really mattered was what this meant for Smaug. “I’m so sorry, Smaug,” he said. “I didn’t realize the full extent of what had happened to you.”  
The dragon licked his front leg like a cat would. “You can make it up to me.”  
“How?” Bilbo asked, then realized how desperate his voice sounded.  
Smaug chuckled, a high-pitched sound. Bilbo hoped that if he ever did reclaim Erebor his voice would deepen or he might be just slightly less threatening. “Bring me some food and we can discuss peace between us,” he said.  
“I will!” Bilbo said. He reached out and gave Smaug the rest of his cookies, who ate them happily. He did look pale, and Bilbo decided he’d smuggle him the best food that he could possibly get.  
Smaug smiled, then wagged his tail. Bilbo could hardly understand how the dragon had been so threatening and was practically his pet, no his friend, now. “I’ll bring you the finest food that I can,” he said.  
The dragon smiled, but then quickly scampered off. He guessed that a dwarf was close, and Bilbo quickly straightened himself up and acted as though he hadn’t just interacted with a dragon.  
Bilbo’s heart soared when he saw that the person was Thorin.  
Thorin wrapped his arm around him and kissed the top of his forehead. “I’m not busy anymore,” he said.  
Bilbo smiled. “I’m glad.”  
“I’ve been meaning to give you something,” Thorin said. He pointed towards his chambers. “Would you like to see what it is?”  
Bilbo’s face turned red. Did he mean to?  
“No,” Thorin whispered. “Unless of course you are interested.”  
“Show me,” Bilbo said, telling himself to relax.  
Thorin took Bilbo by the hand, gently running his thumb in the palm of Bilbo’s hand, then opened the door. On his desk was a box, nothing too big, but not small.  
It’s too big for a ring, thought Bilbo.  
Thorin grabbed it, then held it out to Bilbo. “Open it.”  
Bilbo did as told, then froze.  
Two black buttons and a spool of thread were in front of him, and he knew what that implied. Was he just supposed to start poking at his face?  
“Well, should I get started? Don’t worry, I won’t make you do it by yourself and end up with you bleeding half to death.” He chuckled, then pointed to his bed. “It’ll be easier for if you if you lay down while I do this.”  
Bilbo didn’t know what to say.  
“Are you afraid that it will hurt? I can promise you with a hundred percent certainty that you won’t feel a thing.”  
Bilbo ground his teeth together, sweat forming at the back of his neck.  
“Bilbo, it won’t hurt at all!”  
“No,” Bilbo finally forced out.  
“What?” There was surprise in Thorin’s voice, along with what seemed to be a very small amount of anger. “But Bilbo, if you wish to stay-”  
“And I do want to stay,” he said, feeling the sweat fall like a waterfall down his neck and back, “but I won’t allow you to do that. I like my eyes, thank you very much.”  
Thorin frowned, a deep sadness, or what he guessed it to be, ran across his face. Bilbo could, for obvious reasons, no longer read his emotions from his eyes like he could Thorin, the Thorin with those hauntingly deep blue eyes. “Bilbo,” he said, lowering his voice, “this is the only way that you can stay.”  
“What do you mean?” Bilbo asked, taking a small step away from him. “I could just stay here and not leave.”  
The dwarf king looked even sadder. “That won’t work.”  
“What do you mean?”  
Thorin reached out and gently ran his fingers near Bilbo’s eyes, freezing Bilbo in place. For a moment Bilbo feared Thorin freezing him like this and doing as he wished. He hoped that Thorin wasn’t lying when he said that it didn’t hurt.  
“I won’t make you,” he said. “That would be wrong.”  
Bilbo sighed in relief, finally able to move again.  
“Eventually you’ll go back if you don’t let me do this,” he said.  
“No, I won’t,” he said. “Why would I when I could be here with you?”  
Thorin looked away from him, turning his head. “Please, just do this for me. You can’t even begin to fathom how much this would actually mean to me, Bilbo.”  
“Thorin,” Bilbo said, “I’m telling you, I can’t.”  
“But Bilbo,” he said, “I need you to. Please, please, please.”  
“No,” Bilbo said.  
“Like I said earlier, it won’t hurt! The needle may look sharp, but you won’t feel a thing.”  
“I like my eyes,” Bilbo said, “but I can’t just give them up.”  
“Bilbo, why can’t you just make this small sacrifice? I’ve been forced to make sacrifices that are quite worse than this. It’s such a tiny little thing that you’ll hardly even notice. You’ll really be one of us then.”  
The king spoke truthfully, but he still couldn’t make himself to do it. He couldn’t explain why, but something told him to not do it. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Thorin, I really am, but I just can’t do it.”  
Thorin sighed, then placed the box down. “When you agree to my terms, then come and find me. You know perfectly well that I’ll be in my study.” He stormed off, leaving Bilbo all alone.  
Bilbo stared down at the box, at the two black buttons and the needle and thread. It wouldn’t be a big deal, all he’d have to lose were his eyes. Still, he’d said no. Something about it had just made him nervous.  
He sat down on the edge of Thorin’s bed, looking down at the floor. All he wanted to do was give Thorin a real apology, but there was only one way he could do it that Thorin would really believe him, and he just couldn’t do that.  
He walked into his room and curled up under the bed, clutching the key in his hand. If he slept then he could go back. Something about sleeping to get back to his world seemed a bit kinder to Thorin than to just leave him.  
He closed his eyes and waited for sleep to take him.

 

He walked through the piles of gold, a scowl on his face. “Where are you, damned dragon? When I find you I’ll make you regret ever hatching out of that egg.”  
The dragon hid behind a pile of gold, playing with some of it. He didn’t care about Thorin, knowing that he could easily sneak away from him.  
That was when Thorin found him and grabbed him by the tail. “Did you even try to hide?” he asked. His face hardened. “It’s time I kill you before you make Bilbo believe any more of your lies.”  
The dragon laughed. “You wouldn’t kill me.”  
“And what stupid idea inside that head of yours would make you think I wouldn’t? I could kill you without second thought right now.”  
“You won’t because it would hurt Bilbo, and you wouldn’t want him to be sad.”  
“I could care less right now if Bilbo likes you,” Thorin said. “You’re influencing him in the wrong way.”  
“I don’t know what you mean by that.” The dragon opened his eyes wider to feign innocence. He honestly didn’t know what was making Thorin so mad.  
“What did you tell him so that he wouldn’t let me sew the buttons in his eyes?”  
The dragon laughed, some smoke coming out of his mouth. “I did nothing of the sort.”  
“Liar,” Thorin said.  
“I really didn’t,” Smaug said. “I didn’t even know you were going to do that. Bilbo not wanting to have you sew buttons into his eyes is completely of his own doing; I had no say in the matter, though I do applaud him in his decision.”  
Thorin squeezed the dragon’s tail hard. “I have no time for your nonsense. I need him to say yes.”  
“Are you mad?” Smaug asked. “I’m sorry that you can’t persuade Bilbo to let you eternally change his body.”  
Smaug let go of him, and he laughed when Smaug didn’t flap his wings fast enough to save himself, watching the dragon fall and hit the floor hard. “I could sew buttons in your eyes without your consent, dragon. I’m sure you’d make Bilbo a good little pet, so long as I sew your mouth shut. I can’t say if that will hurt or not, but I’m sure that I’ll find out soon.”  
The dragon began to walk away. “Like I said, Bilbo will hate you. That isn’t exactly going to help you try to convince him to stay here with you.” The dragon jumped on top of a pile of gold, then blew some smoke into Thorin’s face. “No, that certainly won’t work out well for you.”  
“Let’s make a deal,” Thorin said. “If you stop speaking to Bilbo then I won’t harm you. It’s quite simple.”  
Smaug rolled his eyes.  
“Or I will carry out my threat and sew buttons into your eyes,” he said. “And sew your mouth shut so you can never open it again.” He smirked. “I’m sure we both know what the right thing to do is.”  
The dragon thought for a moment. “You can’t sew buttons into the eyes of something that you can’t catch.” Then he burst out running. He didn’t look fast, but he’d learned to improvise since he wasn’t much of a flyer.  
Thorin chased after him, yelling curses at him. “I will skin you alive like the worthless little creature you are!”  
Smaug laughed. “Not at this pace, slowpoke.”  
“You blasted son of an orc!”  
Smaug always kept ahead of him, even when Thorin would have sudden bursts of speed. He used every bit of energy he had, and laughed as Thorin attempted to keep up with him. He vowed that when he was older and could breathe fire that he’d burn down this Other Erebor in seconds, and he’d listen to Thorin’s screams like it were the playing of a harp.  
“When I find you,” Thorin said, “I will show no mercy. No matter what Bilbo seems to see in you, I will take away and you will die at my hands!”  
Thorin walked up to Bilbo’s room, then stared at him breathe in and out.  
He thinks I’ll let him go back to his world this time, he thought with a smirk. He had to restrain himself from reaching out and brushing away one of Bilbo’s curls from his face. No, Bilbo, that won’t happen, not this time.  
Something small and dark was curled up in his hands, but he couldn’t tell exactly what it was. As gently as he possibly could, he reached out and pushed it out of Bilbo’s hand, then just barely grabbed it before it fell on the ground. Bilbo stirred, but his eyes didn’t flutter open.  
The key, Thorin thought, smiling. I believe I’ll need this.

 

Bilbo woke up, then stretched out his arms. He was so happy to be back where it was normal, where his eyes wouldn’t be hurt. He looked around, happiness washing over him. He was safe now.  
When his eyes turned to his desk, he saw a familiar box on his desk. He swallowed a lump in his throat, then woke up. He walked up and saw a note by it.

Sorry that I’m busy yet again. I promise that I’ll make time to see you later tonight, and it’ll be just you and I alone. A few of the other dwarves wish to see you, so that’s a good way to pass the time.  
-Thorin  
Also, I advise you to rethink your decision. It would mean all the treasures of Erebor to me.

“I’m still here,” Bilbo said. “How am I still here?” He then realized that he didn’t have the key. He ran to his bed and began searching under the covers, trying and trying to find it, but he never did.  
He ran to Thorin’s room and did the same. He’d think of a lie for what happened to cause him to mess up Thorin’s room later.  
“No,” he whispered, looking towards the door. “I need that key to get back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might not be able to update until Friday. Sorry guys, but I'm kind of busy tomorrow. I wish it were with this cute girl I know, but instead I'm busy helping out with dumb stuff at home. Sorry.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some stuff happens (yeah IDK what to put here).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on other stuff, so I won't be able to update every day like I used to be able to. Sorry. I'll still update regularly though.

Bilbo stared down at the piles of gold, knowing that the key could be anywhere. He held the ring in his hand, nervously playing with it in his fingers. Something told him that soon he’d be putting it on.  
“Dwalin,” he said, seeing the dwarf walking up the stairs.  
“Aye,” he said.  
“Thorin’s in his study?”  
The dwarf nodded. “He seemed rather busy, so perhaps you should wait a little, lad. It isn’t good to be around him when he’s angry.”  
Bilbo began walking away. He could care less if Thorin were angry, he knew that if anyone in Erebor knew where the key was, it was him. Something told him that he had something to do with the keys.  
I’ll just explain to him that I don’t want him to sew buttons into my eyes, he thought. That’ll clear up our problem.  
He didn’t believe his own thought.  
It was a long walk to Thorin’s study, which was close to the throne behind a door that faded into the wall. He was sure that it had been designed like that on purpose.  
Inside, Thorin was eating something. “Bilbo,” he said when he saw him, “I was hoping that you’d come. They say that even the proudest spirit can be broken.” He paused. “With love.”  
Says the most prideful man I know, Bilbo thought.  
“I didn’t come because of that issue.” Bilbo felt himself begin to sweat again. Soon he’d be needing quite a bath. “Thorin, I need to speak with you,” he said.  
“Have you thought more about your decision?”  
Bilbo nodded.  
Thorin beamed. “Just come over here and lean down so that I can get a good spot of your face and I’ll get started.”  
“I didn’t come because of that.”  
Thorin’s smile faltered. “Then why are you here?” There was anger buried beneath his voice, but he could still sense it. The king was certainly angry that he didn’t get what he wanted. Now that he was king he could get whatever material object he desired, but he couldn’t do this to Bilbo.  
“I came to discuss with you about something,” Bilbo said.  
“What?” Thorin asked.  
“The key,” Bilbo said.  
Thorin smirked, then held up the familiar object to Bilbo, keeping it just barely out of his grasp. “Oh, do you mean this thing? I was wondering why you were holding it so intently.”  
“I need it,” Bilbo said.  
“Why?” Thorin asked, his tone mocking. “I was sure that you would stay like you said you would, and I wouldn’t further press the question. Didn’t you say that you’d stay if I dropped the matter about sewing the buttons into your eyes? I’ve thought, and you don’t have to. Or did you already change your mind?”  
“Just give me the key.” Bilbo swallowed the lump in his throat.  
“What do you need it for?”  
“I should be asking you the same question.”  
“I thought you didn’t want to leave.”  
“I want to say goodbye.”  
“How can you? They’ll think you’ve lost it.”  
“I don’t want them to think that I just vanished.”  
“You already have.”  
The words hit Bilbo like a slap in the face; he knew that Thorin was right. Right now they probably would chalk it off as nothing more than something to do with him mourning the death of Thorin, but eventually they’d realize that he was gone to who knows where and wouldn’t be coming back. Still, he wanted to and needed to do something. His emotions were flying across him, on one hand he wanted to be with Thorin, his living, breathing Thorin, but he wanted to go back, just to give the dwarves some sort of goodbye. No feeling was concrete, one moment he wanted one and the next he wanted another.  
“It was mine,” Bilbo said. “I don’t know when you took it, but it’s time to hand it back.”  
“You don’t need it,” he said.  
“Neither do you.”  
They were going around in circles with this argument.  
“Can you just give me the key?” Part of him just wanted to give up because Thorin was right, he was already as good as gone. Still, he at least wanted to leave behind a letter stating that he had gone somewhere, and he wouldn’t have to specify. . .  
Thorin finally relented and threw it to him. Finally, Bilbo had beaten Thorin’s stubbornness.  
“Thank you,” he said. “I’ll be back within the next hour, as I don’t plan to be gone long.

 

Thorin nodded at Bofur. “Those are nice,” he said.  
Bofur was nervous, he knew what his master was doing was wrong, oh so terribly wrong, but he could do nothing at all to stop him. He handed the toys to him, Thorin-or whatever his true name was, no one really knew-running them through his hands.  
“You’re a fine worker,” he said.  
“Thank you,” Bofur said, forcing himself to keep his hands from shaking. He knew what his master was doing with these toys, and it was disgusting. Still, he could do nothing to stop him. “If you need anything else, just ask.”  
“I will,” Thorin said. “But as of now you are free to do as you wish.”  
So Bofur went back to his room and began to cry, or at least what was possible for him. Button eyes couldn’t make tears, but if anyone heard him, and no one did as his store was closed now that Bilbo was gone, they would know that he was sobbing. He finally stopped after a while, then pulled out a piece of wood and began whittling at it. If only he could do something, anything.  
But of course he couldn’t, and he knew he’d never stop feeling bad about that.

 

Bilbo sat down at his desk, thinking of what to write down. He tapped his pen against the edge of his desk-tap tap tap-and tried to get Thorin’s voice out of his head. He could stay now and never return, never again face Thorin plead with him to just let him do one tiny little thing.  
He liked his eyes and wanted to keep them because Thorin, the ocean colored eyes Thorin, had liked them.  
“Bilbo,” he’d whispered one night when the two were alone, “your eyes keep shining even after everything that’s happened. How do you do it?”  
“I don’t know,” Bilbo said, “maybe it’s just a hope inside me that I’ll survive.”  
“If you survive,” Thorin said, “then come live with me in Erebor, please. You will always be welcome there.”  
Bilbo had smiled. “You’re looking a bit too far into the future.”  
“What do you mean?” Thorin asked.  
“Who says you wouldn’t want to move to the Shire with me?” Bilbo teased.  
Thorin smiled, in a time when smiles were becoming rarer and rarer. “We’ll see about that little hobbit, we’ll see.” And then he’d leaned in and given Bilbo a gentle kiss, and Bilbo had returned it. In that moment only they existed, and they were happier than they’d ever been before.  
Finally, he made himself write. He’d said he’d come back, and there really was no actual use staying here, not where Thorin wasn’t even alive.

Dear friends,  
You have most likely noticed that I have been gone. I am so sorry, but I will be leaving Erebor and not returning. It’s not that I dislike you all, as you are the finest friends that any hobbit could ever ask for, but I cannot stay here where Thorin’s spirit wonders the halls. I want to be happy, and I realize that it’s impossible to be happy here. Again, this has nothing to do with you and I hope that you do not take offense to it. Mourning is a long, difficult process, and I promise that if I ever recover that I will come visit you.

Tears began to slip from his eyes, and he knew that most of those words were lies. He was running away, but it was worth it. He would be with Thorin! After wiping off his cheeks, he began writing again.

I was the happiest hobbit alive during our journey, and I would give up anything in the world if I could go back in time and relive those moments. Though you may have trouble believing it, I always wonder why the hobbit I used to be wanted to go home. Now all I want is adventure.  
I wish you all happiness in the different ways that you are bound to find it. Each and every one of you deserve it, and I hope that all of you realize that. You were once considered lowly, but now you are heroes, and you can still be more if you wish to be.  
You are my heroes.  
Signed,  
Bilbo Baggins

He left, but just as he was about to, a dwarf managed to stop him. Bilbo couldn’t recognize him, but he said that there was an emergency and that he had been looking for. Quickly, he ran away, hiding in a nearby room. The door was opened, but no one knew where he was, the ring placed on his finger.   
“So many disappearances,” he heard the dwarf say. “Far too many. . .”  
Far too many? Bilbo thought. He slipped the ring off of his finger once he was sure he was safe, finally getting a clear view of the room. It was Bofur’s. It was modestly furnished, a desk in the corner filled with wood carvings, paintings on the wall, and a clean bed. But Bilbo knew something was off, as his hat was on the bed. Never once had Bilbo seen Bofur without his hat. Walking over to it, he picked it up and inspected it. Out dropped a note.

Help me, help the others.

And Bilbo knew that something was terribly, terribly wrong, and he knew just who might be causing it.

 

The study was less lit than usual, most of the torches unlit, and those that were lit barely flickered. Thorin sat in the corner at his desk, busy writing down on a piece of parchment. A small flame showed his face, his lips forming a deep frown. His button eyes seemed dull, less polished than usual, and Bilbo could see small wrinkles forming on his face. Bilbo walked closer, his footsteps seeming to get louder and louder the longer he walked up to him.  
Thorin cleared his throat, then turned to face him, his button eyes searching over and analyzing it. "Hello, Bilbo," he said, his voice low. "I'm glad to see that you came back to me."  
Bilbo swallowed the lump in his throat, then tried to appear calm. "Thorin," he said, forcing himself to not wipe the sweat from the back of his neck that was forming fast. It was very hard to restrain himself. He was sure that signs of him being nervous were on his face, and he felt he couldn't hide it. Surely Thorin could see the fear painted on his face. "Did you think I wasn't going to come back?"  
"I was scared you'd try to leave me," Thorin said, "but I was thankfully wrong." In one of his scar-covered hands he held the key. "I was surprised that you'd leave this in the door." He threw it from one hand to the other. "I'm sure that you don't need this any longer."  
Bilbo glanced around the room, then back up at Thorin. He took a deep breath before exhaling. "I want you to let them go and in return I'll stay here; I promise that I will. I'll live here with you," he said, watching Thorin raise his dark eyebrow, "and let you sew buttons into my eyes. I'll stay forever, and I'll be happy, and I'll do everything in my power to make sure that every day is better than the last. I'll shower you in my happiness, Thorin. It'll be perfect, and I'll do whatever you ask me to." He stared up into Thorin's black button eyes, wishing that he could see emotion on it.  
He smiled, then walked closer to Bilbo, then leaned down to cause their faces to nearly touch. He smirked when he saw Bilbo go red, then lightly ran his finger along Bilbo's face. "You make quite the tempting offer, halfling."  
"Then what do you say?" Bilbo asked. "Do you agree to my terms?"  
Thorin took his finger off of Bilbo's face. "I never thought you'd give up so quickly. Where's the stubborn little hobbit that I always knew?"  
"I'm right here," he said, "right here in front of you."  
Thorin chuckled. "You give up too easily to be the hobbit I'm supposed to know."  
"I do not!" Bilbo stamped his hairy foot.  
"You're giving in so easily," he said. "What happened to all that pride you held?"  
"It's still there," Bilbo said.  
"Then why not prove it?" Thorin asked.  
"Prove it?" Bilbo responded.  
"We can play a little game," he said. "Each of your friend's souls are with their counterparts. Find them and you may free them. However, you only have one day for each person. If you can't save them all in time then you will stay here and you will allow me to sew buttons into your eyes." He didn't deny what he'd done.  
"Fine," Bilbo said, "I will!"  
Thorin smirked. "I am delighted that you agree to my terms." He reached out his hand, and Bilbo shook it. Thorin squeezed it. "Good luck, my halfling, as you will certainly you will need it."  
Bilbo told him a quick goodbye, then turned around and left. However, he looked back at the last moment to see the expression on Thorin's face. Perhaps if he looked even the slightest bit discouraged then Bilbo would have a little bit of hope. But when he turned his head, Thorin was gone and there was no trace of him having ever been there. That was when the last torch flicked out, leaving Bilbo in all-consuming darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking about thirteen chapters will happen where Bilbo must free each dwarf. It's like how in Coraline the Other Mother took the ghost children and Coraline's parents.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow, sorry for having you all wait a million years for the new chapter. I was working on another fic, my mafia AU one, and I had writer's block on this one. But don't worry, here's the new one.
> 
> There will be lots of sexual tension between Bilbo and Bofur, and Smaug is a sassy little shit.

There were so many places to look first. Erebor was humungous, and even Thorin, the blue eyed Thorin, had gotten lost in it when he first came back. Smaug had both changed it when he came and his memory had faded.  
A little voice in the back of his mind told him that it was hopeless and that he should save his breath and go back to Thorin and apologize for his behavior.  
“No,” he said out loud. “I refuse to. I only have one day for each person, so I must keep ahead.” He imagined an hour glass beside him, twenty-four in fact, and they were losing sand in the top part quickly. But who to go to first?  
“Bilbo!” called a familiar voice.  
“Oh, Smaug,” said Bilbo.  
“Aren’t you the excited one,” Smaug said, rubbing his body against Bilbo’s leg as if he were a cat.  
“I don’t have time for you,” Bilbo said.  
“Why?” Smaug asked. “I thought you liked me.”  
Bilbo sighed, then reached down and scooped up the dragon in his hands. “Fine, I guess you’ll just have to accompany me on my quest.”  
“You’re going on a quest?” The dragon squirmed in his hands, eagerly looking from one side to the other. “I want to join you! Is the quest to help me take back Erebor, even if it’s this weird Other version of it? I promise that if you do that I will spare you and let you live with me in peace, our past forgotten.”  
“Oh hush,” said Bilbo. “I don’t have time for that.”  
“What do you mean?” the red drake sounded genuinely curious.  
“I’m playing a game with Thorin.”  
“You’re abandoning the prospect of becoming a king with all the treasures he desires so you can play a game with Thorin?”  
“It’s not the way you think it is,” said Bilbo, who then gently petted the dragon’s head. He never thought he’d become close with the dragon, but it suddenly seemed wrong to be with anyone but him. He held the dragon even closer to him.  
“Then how is it?”  
“If I win then Thorin won’t take my friends’ souls, but if he wins then he gets their souls and he gets me.”  
“I knew that dwarf was an evil bastard!”  
Bilbo felt tears forming at his eyes. “You don’t get it, do you?”  
“I’m not an idiot! Just because I’m a new hatchling doesn’t mean I’m dumb!”  
“Smaug, if Thorin wins than everything we fought for will be for nothing.”  
“Now you know how I feel.”  
Bilbo wanted to hate the dragon, but he knew he couldn’t. “My very life, along with my friends’, depends on me winning.”  
“Like our riddle game?”  
“Yes, like our riddle game.”  
He gently touched Bilbo’s arm, and Bilbo looked down into his large dragon eyes. “I believe in you, Bilbo. If you could beat me then you could beat a smelly old dwarf.”  
That was when the tears fell. “That means a lot more than you think it does, Smaug.”  
“Yeah, yeah,” muttered Smaug. “Don’t get sappy on me. So, explain the rules of the game to me.” Bilbo quickly explained everything he could, but removed a few more personal details, then waited for the red drake’s opinion. “That’s a pretty bad predicament you’re in, Bilbo.”  
“Don’t I know it,” he muttered under his breath.  
“I’ll help you.”  
“Thank you.”  
“But in return you must help me reclaim Erebor.”  
Bilbo sighed, but then said yes. What could the little dragon do now, even with Bilbo’s help?  
“Yes!” Smaug cried. “We will be the conquerors! This will certainly be worth it for you in the end, Bilbo!”  
Keep telling yourself that, Bilbo thought.  
“So who should we go to first?” Smaug asked. “If you have only a day for each person then we should hurry and take advantage of whatever time we have.”  
“I’m not sure,” said Bilbo.  
“Where are we now?” Smaug asked.  
It seemed that his walking had led Bilbo to Bofur’s door. He hesitated. “I don’t think that I can do this.”  
“Then you better prepare to have buttons sewn into your eyes,” said a familiar voice.  
“Thorin!” Bilbo cried, then turned around, but he was nowhere to be seen. He felt his heart beat against his chest, and if it didn’t slow down soon he was sure it would tear a hole inside of him. “Smaug,” he said, “tell me that I wasn’t the only one who heard him.”  
“Sad to say,” Smaug said, “but I heard him too.”  
Bilbo quickly opened the door, knowing it was now or never. Thorin’s voice could still be heard inside of his mind, taunting him. It was that voice that had gotten him into this mess in the first place, and he knew it could get him into far worse.  
Clutching Smaug, Bilbo looked around the toy shop. It appeared to be empty, though it certainly couldn’t be closing time. In only a short amount of time a layer of dust had begun to form on the toys, causing them to lose their former magic. He walked further, a lump forming in his throat, but he kept walking. There was nowhere else to go but forward.  
In the corner sat a body, a low sound coming from it. Bilbo’s heart beat even faster, but he walked up to it. It was dressed in clothing similar to Bofur, and yet he refused to believe that it was him.  
But the face that looked up at him was Bofur’s. “You should’ve ran,” he said. “Thorin’s very, very angry now. You won’t like him when he’s angry.”  
“I’ve been around him when he’s been angry before.”  
“He won’t play fair,” Bofur said. “He’ll do anything to get what he wants, and you’re unlucky enough to become the current object of his desire.” He stood up, though from the look of it he seemed to be in immense pain. How he did it Bilbo didn’t know.  
“I’ll try to get you out again,” Bofur said. “Run back to your Shire and stay there until the day the string of your life is cut. Realize that Thorin won’t return to you until you have that string cut.”  
“No,” Bilbo said, “I can’t just leave, not well the game is going.”  
“I’m telling you, he won’t play fair.”  
“It’s boring when you play fair,” Smaug said.  
Bilbo glared at the dragon. “That isn’t helpful right now, Smaug.”  
Smaug didn’t reply.  
“You deserve to live,” Bofur said. “Please, please run.”  
“No,” Bilbo said. “I can’t lose my friends.”  
A sad look crossed over Bofur’s button eyed face. “I guess I can’t change your mind, can I? I’m sure you’ve heard this before, from the real Bofur, not me, a cheap imitation of him, but I wish you all the luck in the world, I really do.” He took something out of his pocket, a toy version of himself, but with his real eyes. He placed it in Bilbo’s hand. “It was easy to save your first friend, but I can’t guarantee the others. You have to get precious items that hold their souls, and at times it will put your life at risk. You deserve an easy one.” He frowned. “You deserve so much more than this pretend happiness.” He stepped away from Bilbo, suddenly paler. “I won’t be around much longer, not without that.” He smiled. “But my short life will be worth it.”  
Bilbo felt tears burn at the sides of his eyes. “I can take you with me!”  
He shook his head. “It’s not that easy, lad. If I left this world then I’d be nothing more than a pile of ash and gold dust. It’d be searing pain and then I’d be gone.” The words were so similar to what Bofur, the real Bofur, had said before.  
“Is it your dying wish for me to go?” asked Bilbo.  
“It’s the only thing that I’ve ever wanted with all my heart.”  
“Then I will honor it.”  
He left the shop with a smiling Bofur behind him, already beginning to fall apart by the seams.  
“Now what?” asked Smaug. “You already have one done and only a few hours have passed.”  
“I don’t know,” Bilbo replied. “He never told me what to do if I finished early.” He looked around, scared he’d come back at any moment.  
“I’m sorry,” Smaug said.  
“Huh?”  
“You don’t deserve to go through this. Getting burnt alive by me is a suitable punishment for your sins, but this isn’t.”  
“Why you are such the activist of justice.”  
“Maybe we can discuss our plan to take back Erebor.”  
“Do you honestly think that I can help you? I’m hardly a burglar. Plus, you can’t breathe fire yet, just smoke.”  
Smaug pouted, black smoke pouring out of his mouth in a thin line. “We will, I know we will. I took Erebor once and it will be mine again. Now let’s keep going.”  
“I’m not sure if I’m allowed to continue. There could be rather dangerous consequences if I break a rule.”  
“Wouldn’t it be great if I still had Erebor right now and you were back in your, what do you call it, Shire?”  
“The Shire.”  
“Yes, the Shire. Wouldn’t it be great if things hadn’t changed?”  
“You would’ve left an entire race in poverty and homeless.”  
“The dwarves have other mountains they could live at.”  
“There is no way to argue with you.”  
Smaug laughed. “Move faster, Barrel-Rider. Erebor isn’t going to take back itself.” He smiled. “When I have Erebor again I will be so happy. No one will take it from me again, and you can have all the gold you like so long as the gold isn’t taken from me. Maybe we can even be friends.”  
“Friends?”  
“I get lonely.” The dragon sounded honest. “I need someone to share my gold with. But don’t think you can just grab it and leave.”  
“No, I wouldn’t.”  
The dragon smiled. “Good.”  
“You’d burn me alive if I did, right?”  
The dragon laughed. “I like you.”  
“Am I intruding on a personal moment?” asked a familiar voice.  
“Thorin,” said Bilbo with a sigh. “What do you want?”  
“The burglar’s got one, but he’s got a lot more to go.”  
“Do I keep going or do I wait until tomorrow?”  
“You completely ignored what I just said.” He laughed, then walked in front of Bilbo, who had refused to turn around out of fear that he wouldn’t be there like the last time. “You are not allowed to get more than one a day. Take this time to get to know your competition.” He smiled.  
Bilbo swallowed the lump in his throat. “I will.”  
He gently touched Bilbo’s hands with the tips of his fingers, running them along his cheeks. “What’s the use of this game? Why go back? You’re not the hobbit you used to be. You’re a fighter now, a cunning one at that, a battler of grief, and even an associate with dragons. Would they even accept you now?”  
Smaug laughed, a deep, throaty sound. “You’re already mad now that he associates with me.”  
He gave Smaug a dark smile. “Why don’t we add a new prize? If you win, Bilbo, then Smaug gets to live. If not, well, I heard dragon skin makes good armor, and my others are getting old.”  
Bilbo looked down to see Smaug look horror-struck, not having a single thing to reply with.  
“Fine,” Bilbo said. “But we will beat you.”  
He smirked. “Only time will tell.” He walked off, Bilbo too scared to follow him.  
He and Smaug kept walking, until eventually they reached a gate leading out of Erebor. None of the guards even looked at Bilbo, just let him through, though one whispered about watching the time.  
Outside, the air was fresh and cool, the smell of the lake coming up from the wind.  
“Why did you do that?” Smaug asked.  
“Because I know he’ll keep trying to kill you. You’re a dragon, and he hates dragons as much, if not more, as he hates elves.”  
They walked past the trees towards Dale, Bilbo’s feet getting damp from the wet grass.  
“I wonder if Bard’s here,” Bilbo said. “Surely his Other counterpart couldn’t be that different from him.”  
“Bard,” muttered Smaug. “When we are kings I will personally burn the man alive.”  
“He’s actually a decent man.”  
“You’ve got a lot to learn, Barrel-Rider.”  
As they walked, the trees and grass began to get thinner, and they seemed more like children’s drawings made with crayons. The grass felt almost like paper mixed with sand, maybe grain. The wind was weaker, and the lake smell was getting weaker even though they were getting closer to the lake.  
And then there was nothing.  
“What’s going on?” Bilbo asked, looking around at the blank nothingness.  
“A spider’s web is only big enough to catch prey.” Smaug said.  
“That isn’t very helpful right now.” He knew the red drake was right, but he didn’t want to believe it.  
They continued walking, Bilbo waiting for Laketown to appear, but it didn’t. Erebor came back.  
“This isn’t possible.”  
“The world’s smaller than it looks.”  
“Well,” Bilbo said, “if this is the size of our playing field, then at least I know what it looks like. Come on, we still have to memorize the halls of Erebor while we still have the time.”  
“Are you sure you can do this?”  
“I won’t lose my friends to this. Besides, I owe you Erebor now, don’t I?”  
“Correct, you do! I’m glad we’re finally on the same page.”  
When they entered Erebor, the guards eyes were only on the two. His heart beat faster and sweat fell down his neck, but he told himself that there was no stopping now. To give him courage, he squeezed the toy in his pocket.

**Author's Note:**

> So, please comment with what you think. I'll try to update soon.


End file.
